


The Rise of Eckeltricity

by kennagirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Computers, Gen, Muggle Technology, Or Can We?, Post-Hogwarts, Social Commentary, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennagirl/pseuds/kennagirl
Summary: Technology comes to the wizarding world. Things happen as expected.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	The Rise of Eckeltricity

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a mid-semester project for one of my PhD courses, Computers in Language and Rhetoric. I wanted to create a pop culture-based discussion point for the ideas brought up in _Digital Dead End_ by Virginia Eubanks and _Race After Technology_ by Ruha Benjamin. Feel free to leave a comment, whether you are engaging with the content of the story or just letting me know what you think.

In the end, it was ridiculously simple. Over a century of witches and wizards claiming that they were unable to use many modern devices, and it only took a Muggle-born fifth year one summer, a few dozen light bulbs, and a list of every spark-creating spell in the Hogwarts library to figure out a way to magically mimic an electric current. One year and a partnership with Dervish and Banges later, nearly every Muggle-born and half-blood student at Hogwarts had a battery they could use to power any electric device they owned. Arthur Weasley received one from each of his children for Christmas.

When interviewed about the inspiration for this innovation, the young Slytherin who invented the battery said, “I wanted to be able to listen to my iPod while at school, so I found a way.”

It took a while longer, mostly playing with different metals to make a battery with greater capacity, but computers were eventually a viable option for witches and wizards to use on a casual basis. Something that Hermione was vocally ecstatic about.

“But what good would they even do?” Percy asked during a large lunch at the Burrow one Sunday. “We’ve gotten along well enough without them so far. Why would we want to use some machine to do things we can probably already do with magic?”

“Because,” Hermione spat back, “think about the potential for equalizing society. Despite all of our efforts, our world still prioritizes pure-bloods over other blood statuses. It’s far too ingrained in everything, from the decades of laws on the books to the way favors are passed among those in power to keep that power.”

Harry cleared his throat from the other end of the table. “She’s right. The quickest way to get anything done at the Ministry is to know the right person and make the right deal. We all know it, and we all do it. We just don’t think anything of it because we’re trying to use the system to do some good in the world.”

Percy dipped his head in acknowledgement then turned back to Hermione, who was plating another serving of vegetables for the child next to her. “But how exactly will it help level things out?”

“Everyone will be starting from the same point,” she said simply, adding some spinach to her own plate and placing the bowl on the table. “Yes, the young Muggle-borns and half-bloods will have an edge on their current pure-blood peers, but that edge fades as we reach older generations. Computer technology changes so fast, even I’m dramatically behind the people I went to primary school with when it comes to familiarity. Bill’s peers could probably turn a computer on and get it to perform some tasks, but nothing complex. We’re all starting at near zero with room to grow together.”

“But what benefits do these computers even have?” Percy prodded, and Hermione snapped.

“George!” she yelled down the table.

“Oi!”

“What do you do when a customer brings something to the counter?”

“Make the sale, of course.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “And what are the steps to that?”

“If it’s not something we sell a lot, I probably have to look up the price in the log book. Then I ring it up on the register and make a note in the inventory, because a little subtraction is easier than trying to recount the whole story every bloody night.”

“And what if I told you that Muggles had a way to do all that with a computer, just by flashing a light at a tag with a code on it?”

“I’d ask how I can get my hands on one of these computer things.”

Hermione turned back to Percy with a smug smile, causing him to look at his potatoes and grumble.

“I still don’t think it will change anything. I doubt there’s anything computers can do that magic can’t.”

“Just you wait. I bet it won’t be long before even the staunchest anti-Muggle pure-blood has an electronic of some sort.”

* * *

As it turned out, they were both right. It took six months and a visit with Narcissa Malfoy to prove Hermione’s side. The two had formed a cordial relationship over the years, especially after Hermione became the Department of Magical Law Enforcement case worker for Lucius’s indefinite house arrest and Narcissa’s ongoing probation. She was following up on a report that a man with long, light blond hair suspected of being Lucius was seen in Knockturn Alley (unlikely, as she had heard from Draco that Lucius was keeping his hair short at the moment due to Scorpius setting it on fire at least once already with a Dragon Pox sneeze) when she saw it on the corner table in the parlor.

“Is that a Game Boy?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Narcissa glanced at where Hermione was looking, then rolled her eyes. “Yes. Draco got it for Lucius at Christmas when he was complaining about being bored stuck in the manor. We rarely use this parlor, so he thinks if he only keeps it in here to play, it’s like it isn’t happening.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Hermione asked, curious.

“I feel that anything that prevents him from trying gardening with my topiaries again is an acceptable past time.”

Percy being right was more subtle. Not the part about computers having capabilities beyond that of magic (even Hermione knew that magic could do nearly anything if you had the right spellwork). It took time to see, but computers didn’t really change anything as far as societal structures went. It really did end up starting with George getting a computer to use as his cash register and inventory system, which he then told other shop owners in Diagon Alley about. Many of them were resistant, not wanting to change a system that worked for their shop and possibly had done so for generations, but others welcomed the change. Soon, every other shop in the Alley had a computer for something, and the customers were starting to take notice. People started asking about the computers, and those who were familiar with them embraced the opportunities to learn about them whole-heartedly. An enterprising young half-blood even set up a computer shop catering to magical individuals, with her non-magical brother helping to sell computers and offer lessons in using them. It was a gradual process, but nearly every aspect of the wizarding world ended up involving a computer (the exception being Saint Mungo’s where the sheer amount of wild magic still made computers unpredictable).

However, there were some unanticipated effects. Not wanting to be left behind, some pure-bloods from well-established families did what they had always done and dipped into generations worth of money to throw at the problem. This money bought not only equipment, but also information and detailed lessons, ways to make sure they were not ceding an advantage to those who worked for a living and therefore interacted with computers far more often. Even then, those pure-bloods who opted to ignore the computer revolution happening did not suffer any issues. They had been working in the system using magic only their entire lives. The system itself was not going to change, even with computers everywhere in the wizarding world, from the shops of Diagon Alley to the halls of the Ministry.

* * *

Hermione got the idea for a Ministry database after the third time in a week that she saw Mundungus Fletcher leaving her floor. He had reformed his criminal ways, or at least gotten smarter about them, but he still had plenty of known connections to the criminal underworld of the wizarding world and was often brought in as an informant. However, his actual record was fairly clean. If Harry hadn’t heard so many stories from the man himself about his exploits during his Order days, he probably wouldn’t have called him so often. Sure, Dung’s name was all over various reports, but very few of them were arrests, so his actual file was thin.

So, Hermione did what her best friends claimed she did best and thought about the library. When she was younger, even during her early Hogwarts years, she spent a lot of time at the public library. The librarians were nice, the books were plentiful, and she could spend hours reading whatever she wanted. She was also very good at using the online catalog on the computer, which allowed her to find some results she never could have found had she just wandered into the section of the stacks that contained whatever topic she was researching. She had even once discussed it with Madame Pince, but the witch had turned up her nose at the idea, claiming that if students were trying to find something, they only need ask her.

The old wizard who ran the records department of the Ministry had a similar attitude, and he also had an unerring ability to point someone who was looking for a specific file to the correct shelf. However, even he had not read every file that had been submitted over the decades. He could not make connections about which individuals had been present at just a few too many incidents, and short of standing in the middle of the records room and performing a Summoning Spell on a specific name, neither could anyone else.

It was with that image of herself buried in a ten foot high pile of reports that spurred Hermione to reach out to some coders, a developing field in the wizarding world, about making a digital database for reports. The process of adding old reports would be a long one, as would training the Aurors in how to use the system, but Hermione was sure that this database would change the way the DMLE did research.

“But why do we need to change the way we do research?” Harry groaned as she explained this all to him.

“Because we’re missing things, and you know it,” she retorted as she continued adding documents into the system with her wand. She was eternally grateful to whichever witch or wizard had come up with a spell to mimic a scanner so they didn’t have to spend years scanning the documents in by hand. “You can’t always trust your gut, no matter how often it tries to point you in one direction. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have some kind of evidence backing up your gut feeling?”

Harry conceded the point and went to fetch a final stack of documents. They were only transferring the last fifteen years of Auror reports to start with. While Hermione had faith in the abilities of the program, she also wanted to test it for issues on a reasonable amount of information before tackling decades’ worth of records across multiple departments of the Ministry. An hour later, she dropped her wand and nudged Harry, who was sitting on the other side of her desk doing paperwork.

“Ready to see what this can do?”

Harry grinned and stepped to her side, grabbing the spare chair behind her desk. Hermione opened the database and searched the name that gave her this idea, Mundungus Fletcher. The screen showed two arrests and a handful of cases listing him as a suspect, not good but not terribly incriminating. It was the dozens upon dozens of incidents listing him as a person of interest that caused Harry to swear under his breath. “If I didn’t know Dung and called him in on half those cases myself, I’d think he was our world’s best criminal mastermind.”

“We both know he’d run his mouth about something and get caught before he hit mastermind status.”

He nodded at the screen. “Could we find that? It’s good to know we can search names, but could we get a list of everyone with their name on more than a dozen reports?”

“Sure,” Hermione said. “I can even set it to ignore the Auror field, so we don’t get the entire department on the list.”

“You can search the Auror names?”

“Of course. It could be helpful in tracking things like who brings in their suspects injured more often than they should.”

Harry grew quiet. “Could you run that report for me later today?”

Hermione nodded and squeezed his arm lightly before returning her hands to the keyboard. As Head of the Auror Office, Harry was well aware that some of his subordinates could be difficult. This could provide the proof he needed to get them officially reprimanded and placed on desk duty.

The potential criminal mastermind list was interesting to say the least. Some of the names were known petty criminals, like Mundungus. Others were Death Eaters who had long since been killed or put in Azkaban. When they reached a page with Harry’s name at the top, they had to laugh. While she had decided not to include any documents issued during Voldemort’s puppet Ministry, which included numerous warrants for their arrest, Harry had still been involved in enough incidents and inquiries that it would make sense for the system to flag his name. Similarly, Madam Rosmerta, Hannah Abbott, and old Tom were dismissed; as proprietors of pubs, they occasionally had to call the Aurors to deal with unruly patrons or fights in their establishments.

Some of the names definitely caught their attention, mostly because of how unfamiliar they were.

“Is there a way to run a threat assessment using this?” Harry asked. “This one, she’s listed as a witness for three similar incidents. Is there a quick way to check if this is a wild coincidence or something worth digging in to?”

“I’ll talk to the people who wrote the program,” Hermione said. “I didn’t discuss that with them as an option, but it may be something they can do.”

It turned out to be incredibly easy for the programmers. All they had to do was cross-reference the report database with the Ministry’s registry for all witches and wizards, which included addresses and employment. With the report for the witness that had drawn their attention in hand, as a sample, Hermione was a bit taken aback by their next question.

“Would you like a general threat assessment list?”

“Well,” the young man said, waving at his screen, “we have all this information. We have statistics telling us what type of person is likely to commit a crime. Wouldn’t it be better to get ahead?”

Hermione clenched her jaw. “I don’t like the idea of ascribing traits to someone based on demographics.” The old word scarred into her forearm itched in reminder.

The man did not seem to notice. “Tell you what. I’ll run the list and print five detailed reports at random. You can do some digging and find out if they have merit. If they don’t, I delete the program that runs that list.”

Despite the nauseous pit in her stomach that told her it was a bad idea, she had to admit that the tool could be helpful if it worked. “Eliminate anyone currently serving a sentence. I don’t want to get five people already in Azkaban as proof that this program can find real threats.”

“That’s fair,” he said, typing a few things and clicking a few boxes. A minute later, five more sheets of parchment were in her hands. “Take your time, come back if you have questions. You know my schedule.”

Nodding, she exited the office and headed to her own, determined not to look at the pages in her hands until she reached it. Once inside with the door closed, she gave the assessments her attention.

The triple witness was able to be dismissed as a coincidence. All incidents related to cursed objects, the first two from her job, which was located near an intersection to Knockturn Alley, and the other tied to a residence that a search of the registry showed as formerly belonging to her now-wife. The couple directly involved in the third incident had since been arrested for dealing in cursed artifacts. It was unlikely that this girl was leaving things lying around and just waiting for an unlucky someone to pick them up.

The first four random reports were uninspiring. One was an individual currently under investigation, while the other three had past arrest records for minor incidents. She vaguely remembered a rumor circulating during her second year about a sixth year Hufflepuff who had somehow stolen a barrel mulled mead from Rosmerta for a Quiddtich party and gotten caught, and now she was holding proof. Putting that assessment aside, she turned to the final record only to have her breath catch in her throat.

Roxanne Johnson-Weasley, three years old and last seen by Hermione smearing ice cream all over her face. In fact, other than her direct connection to two people with minor arrests on their files (an incident involving George, Angelina, too much firewhiskey, and a public fountain), Hermione could see no reason for her to be on this list.

Hermione stood abruptly from her desk and headed out the door, nearly bowling Harry over as he approached her office for their planned meeting to go over these assessments. “Where are you going?” he asked as she strode towards the lift.

“I’m going to give that idiot a piece of my mind.”

“What happened?”

“He offered me some random files off a general threat assessment list,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. “I’m going to tell him to delete that list as useless.”

“Why?”

In response, she shoved the sheet of parchment at Harry and stepped on the lift. He followed her, eyebrows rising as he read. “I think I’d like an explanation as well.”

The ride was tense, and Hermione nearly burst out the door as soon as they opened. Harry caught up with her quickly and was able to get in front of her, trying to control the situation before Hermione unleashed her full anger on the shocked man behind a desk.

“We would like you to explain why this name was on the threat list.”

The man took the page from Harry, scanning to understand the information. “Well, connection to individuals who have already been arrested is a big one, but I don’t think you’d be upset about that. It seems the last name flagged, probably because it’s hyphenated.”

“What’s wrong with hyphenated names?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Nothing,” the man said, “but they do have a higher arrest rate than non-hyphenated names.”

“Have you considered other factors that may be causing that?” Harry asked. “Like maybe the fact that hyphenated names are more likely to belong to Muggle-borns and half-bloods? Who traditionally have a higher arrest rate than pure-bloods because pure-bloods have bought out convictions in the past?”

“…I have not.”

“What else?”

Another look at the page had the man saying, “The place of residence is a flat, which statistically means a higher chance of incident. Much higher than those in villages or out in the countryside.”

“Of course there’s a higher rate of incidents on people who live in flats than people who live out in the country!”Hermione burst out. “In the country, you don’t have neighbors on the other side of the wall who will call the Aurors because a domestic turned into a duel. Also, those flats are disproportionately filled with Muggle-borns and half-bloods because pure-bloods are more likely to have the land or funds to live in the countryside.”

“I see,” the man said, making notes on another sheet, likely about ways to change the program. “This is a problem, but it doesn’t quite explain this level of upset.”

“Did you check her age?” Hermione said quietly.

The man looked at the parchment again. She could tell when he realized his mistake by his face paling.

“Delete the general assessment program,” she said. “Anything that thinks a toddler is a threat to anything other than the cookie jar should not exist.”

“Right away, ma’am,” the man said, turning to do just that. Harry gently tugged on Hermione’s arm to pull her out of the office and back towards the lift. The ride was again silent, the two of them staying that way until they were once again behind Hermione’s closed office door. She sat down heavily at her desk while Harry retrieved the emergency chocolate that Hermione kept in a box on her filing cabinet.

“I thought it would make things better,” she said idly. “Computers. I thought it was a chance to level the field, as much as taking all the old, blood supremacist laws out of place was.” She looked at Harry. “I’m starting to wonder if it made things worse.”

Harry sat on the opposite side of the desk, sliding the chocolate towards her. “Maybe it did,” he agreed. “Maybe we just need to be better about how we use them.”


End file.
